


The Vice of Freedom

by Moonfireflight



Series: Yandere!Seven [2]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: (place holder tag for lots of sex and violence and bad times), Blood, Car Accidents, F/M, Hidden Cameras, Obsession, Psychological Horror, Stalking, Violence, Yandere, Yandere Seven, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2019-12-07 19:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18239186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonfireflight/pseuds/Moonfireflight
Summary: I thought I was done with "The Crime of Freedom" but someone asked if I would ever write a sequel to it.This is what happened in my brain:"No, that's silly. How would that even wooOOOAH why do I have a 5 page outline for this now???"Based on what I have, this will be at least as long as the original, or longer.You'll need to read the first one for this one to make sense. Also, if you read the first one, you know approximately what you are getting into.Yandere Seven returns~Continually evolving playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3JcMSn1CmueWt8f5C8sEIU(Sorry for the lack of updates - This is on hold or may not get finished. It's suffering from bad sequelitis)





	1. Miscalculation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Music for the end of this chapter: Muse - "Blockades": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Onwo-SWgI1o

In an attempt to channel the nervous energy thrumming through him, Yoosung tapped away at the well-worn space bar on his keyboard, making his character jump in place. He knew it annoyed a few of his guildmates, but he didn’t care. “You good, Superman? Looks like we're almost ready!”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. He was glad it was raid night, eager for the challenge of a new boss fight to keep his mind occupied.

Any moment his attention wasn’t filled by the action on his screen, he couldn’t help ruminating over the same line of thought. No one had called him to explain why Jumin had sent his guards to May’s place or what happened there. V and Jumin did an impressive job of dancing around the issue in the chatroom before leaving abruptly. He didn’t remember who said it, but it seemed like May was going to Zen’s place? That meant she needed to drink to chase her memories away. She had been doing less of that in the last couple of months. What changed that so abruptly?

Underneath all of those thoughts was another stream of consciousness that he denied any space in his mind. Was it Seven? Was he back? Was he… better? Was that even possible?

The whole thing was still unbelievable. First May had shown up mysteriously in the RFA chatroom. In just a few days, Seven was head over heels for her. Despite his attempts to deny it, all of his friends had been able to tell and were cheering the new couple on in their own way. Seven had gone to see her at Rika’s old apartment and then… they both fell off the radar entirely.

Yoosung still had trouble thinking about the day she returned to them. After she appeared in the chatroom again for the first time in over a month, V called for an emergency meeting of the entire RFA. No, not the entire RFA. Seven was missing. When pressed about it, she had begun sobbing uncontrollably. He had never heard that kind of anguish from a person before. The meeting was cut short, and only V had stayed behind to talk to her.

Just like that, the RFA had more secrets.

“... said are you ready?” Shit, he had been spacing out.

After checking for the fifth time that his gear was repaired and he had a good supply of potions on him, he replied. “Good to go! Let’s bring down this monster!” It was a shame that May hadn’t caught up to his level yet. He had a feeling she could use the distraction too. Whatever was going on, he promised himself that he would spend time power leveling her soon. She had picked the game up pretty quickly despite having only played mobile games before, and seemed to enjoy it.

He checked his clock. Everyone was there right on time, so he pulled up the raid list and clicked on their newest challenge. Eight brave warriors were whisked to a crumbling platform over a nebulous void. Their tank and guild leader, clad in silver armor with pink accents, stood at the lead. “Okay team, we almost had The Nightbeast last week. All we need to do is tighten up our DPS and minimize deaths to easy mechanics, and we’ve got it.”

A chorus of agreement rang through his headphones. The countdown ticked by, and on one, he charged the giant beast, getting its attention. “Tank buster incoming.”

“Gotcha, boss,” replied one of their healers, summoning up a magical barrier.

“Perfect!” He grit his teeth as even with the barrier his health dropped to nearly nothing. “Man, that still stings.”

The rogue laughed. “You know you like it!”

Yoosung rolled his eyes while his fingers continued to tap out the well-memorized sequence of keys that would keep the boss angry at him. Five minutes later, they had entered the final phase of the fight. “Okay, just like we practiced. Ranged DPS go left and dodge his tail. Everyone else go right... keep it up; he’s at five percent health. We can beat the enrage timer this time!” Though his fingers continued to do their dance without pause, he was shaking. They were going to win this time! Four percent...

His apartment went black.

Once his brain processed that his power had gone out, he tore off his headphones and threw them across the room, shouting at the unfairness of his life.

***

“Phew, I needed that!” May slammed her empty beer can into the table harder than she meant to, making Zen's nearly empty can wobble dangerously close to falling to the floor.

“Okay, but I think you've had enough,” chuckled the white-haired man. “I know it’s been a long day, but you don’t want to start tomorrow hungover.”

May leaned back and let herself fall to the cluttered floor. “Sure sure, big bro. Says you.” She stretched her arms over her head, causing her shirt to wander up and reveal her midriff. Zen coughed and averted his eyes. He had no intent on pursuing anything like that with his favorite drinking buddy and felt guilty even seeing that hint of skin. “I plan on starting tomorrow drunk, thank you very much,” she boasted from the floor.

Zen got up and wandered into his tiny kitchen, idly poking through mostly empty cabinets. Whether looking for a distraction or dinner, he wasn't sure. “Zeeeeennn,” called the drunk woman sprawled on his floor. He was about to answer when the apartment suddenly went dark. “Why'd you turn out the lights? I'm not sleepy yet,” she said, with a yawn.

“I didn't. What the hell?” Zen padded over to the door, stepping carefully over a collection of empty cans. Opening the front door didn't let any more light into the room, confirming that it wasn't just the apartment that had lost power. In fact, he didn't see a single street light or window that wasn’t darkened anywhere. “Well, it’s not just us. For a second there, I thought I’d forgotten to pay the bill.”

He could vaguely see May, now leaning against her elbows on the low table. “Wha’dya mean?”

“Looks like the whole neighborhood is out. Might be the whole city.” As he peered out at the lightless city, anxiety coiled its way into his stomach, mixing badly with warm beer and salmon rice balls. An ugly sensation of deja vu tickled at the back of his brain. Out of habit, he picked up his phone to check if anyone was in the RFA chat. No signal. Right.

If only he could remember the rest of the dream that was percolating underneath his conscious mind. Maybe then he would know what to do. Whatever was going on, he would protect May.

***  
Miles away, three men sat in relative silence in the back of an unmarked black van, the occasional bump in the road jostling them out of whatever train of thought their minds tried to latch onto. The space was lit only by the rapid-fire pulsing strobe of streetlights leaking in through the windows.

It had taken some time to sort out the crime scene with their limited kit. They had been given explicit orders to clean up everything before the police were called in. The boss didn’t want any questions, which was understandable. He couldn’t afford a scandal, and apparently, this guy had been a friend of his. What kind of friend builds and straps a bomb to himself before visiting his girlfriend, he didn’t ask.

“Bullshit this guy is ‘no one’. How did the boss know he was going to be there?” The one who had spoken was fidgeting with his pistol, glancing sideways at their captive.

The other guard leaned his head back, letting the vibrations of the van travel through his skull, blurring his vision a bit. When he closed his eyes, he still saw that poor woman weeping, screaming for them to bring back the guy who had likely come to kill her. Having his eyeballs jostling around in his head seemed a reasonable compromise. “Okay, first. Put that thing away. He’s not armed, and his hands are bound behind his back. You’re more likely to shoot your own foot or me if we hit a pothole and you keep playing with it.”

“Whatever Max,” he huffed, clicking the safety of his gun on then off again. “This guy was loaded. You sure you got everything he was packing?”

Maxwell answered with a sigh. “Yes, I’m sure, Keon-woo. What’s he going to do? Stab me with his phone? Anyway, Mr. Han just said he had a feeling that May was in danger and to look out for a red-haired guy.”

“Well, we found him; that’s for sure.”

The third man began to laugh, cold and low, catching both men's attention. He was looking up for the first time since they had been on the move. Though his messy hair mostly covered them, an occasional flash of light from outside made his amber eyes seem to glow.

“See, Max? I fucking told you something isn’t right with this guy! Where are we taking him anyway?”

With a grunt from Maxwell as the only answer, their redheaded captive replied instead. “Nowhere.”

Keon-woo spun towards the bound man, gun pointed at him, voice tight with panic. “What the hell does he mean?”

“I don’t freaking know? Put your damn gun down! I know there’s something wrong with the kid, but I don’t…”

A muffled voice from the front of the van interrupted him. “Everyone hold on back there. Looks like there’s a power outage in this area? Weird.”

Sure enough, the space was no longer lit by anything but a soft blue glow from behind the smiling man. “Yeah! Super weird, right??” With a clatter, his phone slipped from between his bound hands, landing face up between the guards. A yellow skull grinned up at them from the screen. “...Oops.”

All three men were still staring down at the phone when it happened. The escalating shriek of brakes pushed beyond their limit barely preceded the entire van rocking violently to a chorus of crunching metal, breaking glass, and a single gunshot. Maxwell caught a blur of movement before a blow to his skull knocked him to the canted floorboards. As consciousness fled from him, he was vaguely aware of the doors at the rear of the van opening, and their former captive giving a cheery “Toodles~!” before bounding out of the back of the vehicle and into the night.

***

Jaehee Kang let the arm holding her glasses drop to her side as she rubbed at her tired eyes. She was almost done with her work for the night, but it had been a trying day. On top of everything else, her boss, Jumin Han had spent most of the last half hour pacing back and forth in front of his office and it was getting on her few remaining nerves.

Of course, C&R would have the best generators money could buy. The power goes out for the whole city, and all it had done for her was to cause her to lose about twenty minutes of work thanks to the initial outage. With a sigh, she admitted that probably wasn’t the best mental display of her work ethic. Besides, even if she had been at home, she wouldn’t be able to watch any of Zen’s musicals without power. The outage had taken out cellular service as well so even watching his debut video online was out of the question.

The sudden sound of a phone ringing sent her glasses clattering to the floor. “Finally, someone else remembered that landline phones exist,” exclaimed her boss as he nearly ran to the receiver. “Jumin Han here.” Jaehee distracted herself by retrieving her dropped eyewear, while waiting to hear more of the conversation.

“That is… unfortunate. But first, are you alright? Good.” Though she tried not to stare or presume the context of the call, she shouldn’t help but worry even more when Jumin pinched the bridge of his nose and continued. “No, no. That’s not your fault. I should have briefed you and your men fully before sending you out there. Okay, just take care of yourself first. Thank you.”

Phone call concluded, he gingerly placed the receiver back on its base. Glasses back on, Jaehee made a show of getting back to work. Focusing on anything was impossible, though, with her boss standing statue still, staring off into the distance. She wanted to ask him for confirmation of her fears, but she figured she would hear the answer when Jumin was ready to share it.

But… if there had been a problem with his security team, that meant May might be in danger again.

“Ms. Kang.”

She snapped to attention again at the sound of his voice. “Yes?”

Jumin paced to the window, staring out across the dark void that should have been a city-shaped constellation of lights. “Remind me to write a sternly written letter to the power company tomorrow.”

Of course. “Yes, sir. I’ll set a reminder.” She couldn’t help but smile. At least some things never changed.

***

A sudden flood of light and the sound of various appliances whirring back to life finally shook Yoosung out of his stupor. He set his favorite stuffed bunny aside and ran to his computer, tapping his foot impatiently as it booted up. It had been extra slow these last few months, and he wished that… he wished that he still had a friend who could fix it. He probably could have asked Saeran, but he still felt awkward talking to the man for many reasons. Having a tangible reminder of his cousin’s secret past practically filling in for his missing best friend was exactly too much for him to handle.

Instead of starting up normally, his computer decided to put itself through some scans since it hadn’t shut down properly. “Well, no kidding, you didn’t shut down properly,” he grumbled. While waiting, he picked up his phone to see if it had service yet. He nearly dropped it again when a new message came in. It was from the local power company.

> Our most sincere apologies for the poorly timed outage! The lights are all back on now, chasing the monsters of the night back into the shadows. Nighty night!

The cheery melody that indicated his computer was done booting echoed through the room, causing Yoosung to set his phone to the side and chase down the headphones he had thrown earlier. As strange as the message had been, it sat forgotten once Superman Yoosung was back in business for a long night of relic grinding.

***  
V took an unusually deep sip of wine before setting his glass back down. “Jumin. We can’t tell her. She’s already shaken enough after what happened earlier today.”

Leaning back in his regal leather chair, Jumin stared at the ceiling for a long while before answering. “Though the thought of encouraging more secrets in the RFA doesn’t sit well with me, I must admit you are right.”

“We need to tell Saeran though. Immediately. If anyone can protect May from Luciel’s skill set, it’s him.” The teal-haired man looked to his old friend for a reply and was made to wait yet again.

“V. I will grant that what you did for Saeran was, without a doubt, for the greater good.”

It was hard not to shift around in his chair under the weight of the grey-eyed stare. “...But?”

Jumin stood up before answering, pacing a few steps and taking another sip from his glass. “But what percentage of your reasons for doing so were simply to replace the RFA’s missing security expert?”

“That’s not fair, and you know it.”

“It is entirely fair. If guilt over his fate at the hands of Rika had been enough, you would have done something for him months ago. Perhaps years. Am I wrong?”

At that moment, his dear friend’s nigh unbreakable poise was starting to drive him mad. “Dammit, man. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t regret how I ‘helped’ Luciel all those years ago, but I didn’t know what else to do then. I had to make sure at least one of those boys could get to actually live. I know it doesn’t make up for everything else, but I had to try.” V swirled the dark liquid in his glass around slowly. Thinking about Rika left him torn between wanting to drink more out of spite for her memory, or listening to his unsettled stomach and giving it up for the night.

“Better…”

Withering under his friend’s gaze, he slumped in his chair before answering. “Oh fine. At least twenty percent, but it still had to be done either way.”

Jumin’s serious demeanor cracked ever so slightly, and he chuckled, making V let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I appreciate your honesty. If anyone understands seeing people as resources, it’s me, so don’t beat yourself up over it. But I wanted to set a precedent. I agree that May can’t know that Luciel is already free again right now, but I refuse to let that excuse any more lies between us. Deal?”

“Deal. So what do we do now?”

“We pour ourselves another glass of wine and leave it up to my guards and our new security expert for tonight. He’s been briefed on the situation and is monitoring both Zen and May’s places of residence. It seems Luciel was shot in the commotion, so I am sure he won’t risk coming after her again tonight.” He continued after pouring the promised libations. “Tomorrow, I’ll talk to May about moving to a more secure location, and position it as a precaution.”

Two old friends finished the evening in a companionable if mildly morose silence. No amount of drink could make them forget about the transformation that had overtaken their former friend, nor of what he had put their newest member through, but at least made the memories harder to hold on to for a short time.

As V laid down in one of the guest rooms of the penthouse, he didn’t close his eyes until the press of exhaustion forced them shut. The many demons that made their home in his heart were hungry that night, and he refused to feed them for once.

***

“Buddy, you should have listened to your partner back there. This is the first time I’ve been shot in a long time. I forgot how much it stings! Ow…” Luciel leaned heavily against Keon-woo, one hand pressed to the seeping wound on his shoulder. The bullet had barely grazed him, but it still left his entire right arm clenching with every pulse of his heart.

The day had… not gone how he had planned. Really, he hadn’t planned it at all. That was the problem.

He’d spent the last few months in a haze, walking, hitchhiking, swindling his way across the world to get back home after slipping away from his team. Exhausted and aching, once he’d found out where MC was staying, he hadn’t been able to wait any longer to see her. There _had_ been a plan. It was going to be a _really good_ plan. The program he had executed to knock out the power was going to part of it, but at least he’d had enough clarity to use it to escape.

So many mistakes. Warning her via the RFA chatroom and scaring her... He was better than that. He had to be for her. At least the guy that V had hired to replace him hadn’t figured out where the messages had originated.

No more mistakes. He would find out everything he’d missed out on these past several months and learn all of her new patterns first. Then he could build the perfect place for her and bring her home. It would be beautiful. No wall, physical or digital, could keep God Seven from his precious angel. Anything that stood to keep them apart would crumble before him. All in good time.

A cringing voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Erm… what are you doing to do with me?”

“Oh! I forgot all about you. Sorry! So rude of me.” Luciel pushed off of the man and righted himself. “Hey, thanks for the gun, and send my apologies to Mr. Max for the headache he’ll have tomorrow.” Noticing that the other man was unable to stand on his own, his left leg bending at a stomach-churning angle, he set him down gingerly. “Damn. I would call an ambulance for you but, you know,” Luciel quipped while gesturing around them at the city he’d plunged into temporary darkness. With a shrug, he walked away. Eventually, the other man would wake up and make a report. He planned to vanish long before then.

He took a deep breath, letting the brisk night air clear his head. Finally, after months of intermittent delirium, trapped in the maze of his own mind, he was starting to feel like himself again. Well, himself plus one gunshot wound that he would need to tend to soon.

“MC… keep waiting for me, my sweetie. I only need a little bit to get everything ready. I’ll do it right next time.

Time is all that separates us now.”


	2. Pentimento

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home, sweet home.

Chill, if somewhat stale air welcomed Luciel Choi home as he shut the metal door behind him. His first step into the room faltered, so he shifted his weight to let himself slump back against the sturdy portal. If it could keep the world from finding his hiding place, it could keep him upright for another few minutes. Once he had made it down the twenty-two stairs that separated him from the world above, all the bravado he had braced himself with sloughed off of him, leaving him a naked, soft thing, vulnerable and hurting.

He let his eyes rove over the room. It wasn't the familiar shape of his old home - those walls with their black and yellow stripes and splashes of red. It wasn't much of anything yet. But it was underground, where he belonged, and it was his… theirs. 

On paper, it was owned by a man who didn't exist, paid for in cash through a proxy. Some said it was once a hidden den for gamblers. Another joked that it was a fallout shelter. When he first came here, there was little in it to mark it as either. Just three large rooms and a bathroom with good plumbing, carved from the dirt and set with cold grey concrete walls and ceiling. 

Bracing himself with his uninjured arm against the wall, he began to slowly circumnavigate the room. The pain radiating from his arm cascaded into the brew of self-loathing that coiled in his chest, all burning together in his stomach. As he passed through the bedroom, he managed to resist the siren song of the bed’s embrace. It wouldn’t do to get blood on the sheets he would soon share with her. He steered around it to deposit his newfound pistol on the nightstand. 

Despite the stiffness taking over his arm, he managed to remove his empty shoulder holster, letting it drop to the floor. He steeled himself with a few more breaths before working at getting his shirt off. The lingering scent of caustic chemicals had infused it from his makeshift explosives, reminding him again of the mistake he’d nearly made earlier. Some of his shirt had stuck to the skin of his gunshot wound and he grit his teeth as he separated fabric from flesh. After letting the rest of his clothing fall to the floor, he staggered into the bathroom. 

The reflection that gazed back at him from the scarred and pock-marked mirror hardly felt familiar. His wild red hair had gotten longer than he liked, but at least that would be easy to fix. Lost sleep and lost weight had left him with thinner cheeks, a sharper chin, and dark circles under his eyes. That would take more time. He needed to work on himself before he could be enough for her again. No wonder she had been so frightened when had appeared before her.

After everything, his glasses had remained intact and mostly free of scratches. His vision had grown no worse over the last few years, and he had become attached to the striped frames. They were a part of 707 - that carefree, harmless goofball that MC loved. He folded them and set them down on the bathroom counter. Another look at the mirror painted a different picture. It was the same man - Luciel - but soft around the edges. The dark circles under his eyes had faded away. His face was the right shape again. 

As he began to glance away, for a moment, he saw someone else. 

The same red hair, if maybe a bit dustier. The same amber eyes, though their shade seemed to slide towards a muted seafoam the longer he looked. It was a sketch, a prototype, hidden under layers of paint, and it left him feeling seasick. 

Luciel dragged his eyes away from the reflection, focusing instead on the long white scar on his forearm. He traced it with a finger reverently. Though he had been angry at the time, in retrospect, he was so proud of MC for having brought that knife with her and for fighting back on that rainy night so long ago. He would always have this mark from her, and the thought lifted some of the black cloud that had settled over him. 

Before he could dress his wound, he needed to clean it. He decided to take care of that in the shower, as he showered every night like clockwork before climbing into their bed A ritual to keep their space perfect and ready. 

The water sputtered fitfully at first, but in minutes the room was filled with steam. Luciel stepped under the flow of hot water, relaxing into it despite the pain it caused for his wound. He ran his fingers through his hair, untangling it bit by bit. 

Upon finally having a moment to rest, his mind was filled with her. 

Even through the chemical stink of his creations, he had smelled that heavenly mixture of sunlight and flowers that was uniquely her in that brilliant moment where their eyes had met again. She was resplendent in her fear and confusion - pupils wide, lips parted so slightly. Soon he would kiss those lips again and breathe her rosy hues. 

She ran to him, and he lifted her into his arms, but the memory of a noxious scent sliced into his dream state - alcohol. Had she been drinking… or had a guest that was drinking? He slapped his hand against the wall to stabilize himself as new worries popped into his mind, crowding against each other and pressing up against his skull. Was it Zen? He had charmed her and convinced her to start drinking. No! Legs wobbling, he braced himself with both hands, praying that this would pass. Images of the white-haired actor kissing her tender lips, touching places that were his and his alone…! 

“No! She’s mine!” The pressure in his head sank into his chest, leaving his throat raw in its wake. Sobs tore through his body as Luciel’s palms struck the wall over and over as he fought his invisible war. “Stop this! Stop!” He sank to his knees and wept until the water ran cold. 

The agony was replaced by emptiness once his well of tears dried up- only the pattering of falling water echoed in that hollow space. He got up on shaking legs and turned off the tap, shoving his way out of the shower. While stalking towards his computer command station, he snapped up a towel and angrily dried off his hair. The solution to fear was action. Control. 

After so many months apart, despite his stupid mistakes, he had seen her. Despite the fear in her eyes, she had taken a step towards him. She had called for him. His beloved was out there, waiting for him to once more become the man she knew and adored, and find her again. 

His mind was clear now. That monster at GFX had tried to make him forget about MC, to stop loving her, not realizing that he might as well have attempted to knock the earth off of its orbit. Some of his other memories were still… glitchy, but he could never forget MC’s beautiful soul and the time they shared together. He would start training again to get his body back in shape and feed himself properly. His body was a temple to his beloved, and he planned to start treating it that way again. 

After his surprise appearance today, she would be moved again, but he knew he would find her. 

He still had backdoors that even the RFA’s new security officer hadn’t found. He rechecked them to confirm. Perfect. Data from every member’s phones began to trickle in. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to piece together a rough map of their day-to-day lives in his mind. When working for GFX, he had taken the strength of his mind, his genius, for granted and in weak moments even saw it as a curse. But despite being left to the devices of the most sadistic “psychologist” there, God had seen fit to leave him with what he needed for this most important of tasks. 

Whatever had leaked from the brain they tried to fry - whatever memories had sacrificed themselves in place of his genius and remembrance of MC, washed down the drain by the cleanup crew when they had finished with him- didn’t matter anymore. 

It was time to get to work. 

***  
A mix of harsh chemical smells from cleaning products and new carpet assaulted May’s nose as she opened the door to what would be her new apartment. She wrinkled her nose and wandered through the place, finding and opening each window a tiny bit to let fresh air into that space. 

An expanse of dark blue carpet surrounded her, fenced in by off-white walls. From the middle of the living room, she let the gentle breeze wash over her and watched the sheer white curtains dance. She longed to enjoy the sensation of airflow, of freedom and nature - but it felt too open. The door, left ajar, started a warning siren in her head and she pressed her hands to her temples as she crossed the space to shoulder it closed, then locked it. She had managed it for a little longer, this time. Her therapist had suggested this kind of exposure therapy and, maybe, it was working. 

Once her breathing had returned to normal, as normal as it ever was, she roamed through the building to get a feel for the layout. Her tour revealed three decently sized rooms - living room, bedroom, and kitchen - and a bathroom with a deep tub. The tub was the one luxury she had requested. Even if her mind tended to wander to darker places more often than not when she was alone with her thoughts, at least it gave her body a chance to relax from the constant tension. 

May glanced at herself in the mirror. Her once long hair had been cut short, first by her own doing, which left it a choppy mess, then by a hairdresser that Jaehee had insisted she visit. She had to admit he had done a marvelous job of making it look like an intentional choice, rather than one fueled by desperation to be someone else, even for a moment. 

As always, the scar on her chin stood out as if it glowed from within, drawing her eyes towards it every time she looked at her reflection. She felt her mind begin to lay the trap. Remember the knife? Remember why you needed it and how little it had done for you anyway? Remember how weak you were and always will be, and that he’s coming back for you and always will. 

Sudden pain radiated out from her knuckles with each rapid pulse of her heart and she pressed her clenched fist to her chest. "Anger is better than fear," she chanted in her mind. At least it had been the tile and not the mirror. 

She was getting better. 

Jumin, V, and Saeran, each, in turn, had sworn to her that they had hidden her in every way possible. They had brought her to a small town outside of the city and set her up with this cute second story apartment. She hoped one day she would be able to sit on the balcony, watching someone’s children laugh and play, enjoying the breeze. For now, at least, she needed her bed and her computer. The movers were on their way, but she was early. So she sat on the still-vaguely-damp carpet and waited, passing the time with a new game on her phone. 

***  
Yoosung had accompanied the movers so he could help set up her new computer. Her friends in the RFA had not wanted to take any chances that Luciel had meddled with her old one somehow so Jumin had funded getting her a new PC. 

She was sprawled out on her new couch, one arm hanging off the side, playing with her phone as he worked. His muffled voice came from under the desk. “Saeran built the computer so that it’s a super gaming machine! I can’t wait to see how LOLOL runs on it. I’m so jealous!” 

That was surprising. “Saeran did? Is he a gamer too?” 

“Nah. He’s just scary good with computers.”

“Do you think he would… put anything weird on it? I mean…” May wasn’t sure how she felt about Saeran. In a way, she was afraid to meet him, worried that she would see too much of Luciel in him. It wasn’t fair of her to assume that he would track her or something just because he was a hacker too. She would never forget the hatred in his eyes when he had crashed through the window at Rika's apartment. It was too much to think about, and left her frowning at the window by her bed. “Nevermind. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

With a grunt, Yoosung extracted himself from the desk and sat back on his heels. “You don’t have to apologize, May. I feel complicated when I think about Saeran, too. I makes me think about a lot of sad things, about Rika, about Seven and V. People aren’t always who we think they are, I guess. If he did anything weird to your computer, it would only be to protect you from his brother, I’m sure.”

“Fair.”

“Okay, now let’s see what this monster can do!” He powered on the monitor and the computer and slipped into her worn computer chair. “You sure you don’t want a new chair? I’m sure Jumin could help. Even mine is newer than this.” 

May shook her head. “This one’s comfy.” 

Yoosung pursed his lips and gave her a dubious look, making them both laugh. “Oh! I thought we were going to have to kill time while LOLOL downloaded, but Saeran already installed it on here! Great! Mind if I log into my account to test it out?” 

“Sure, sure. I’m kind of tired anyway. Moving sucks. I’ll watch you play for a bit then we can call it a night,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. 

“Thanks, May! Are you sure it’s fine for me to sleep on the couch?” 

With a sigh, she hauled herself off the couch. “Oh, that’s right. I need to find the other blankets and stuff. But yeah, of course. It’s late, and it’s a long bus ride back.” She scanned over the collection of hastily labeled boxes, trying to discern which one might contain bedding. After poking through a few of them, she found what she needed and set up the couch for her friend. 

The blonde jumped when she put a hand on the back of the chair, making it creak loudly. “Wow. LOLOL seriously looks amazing! I had no idea the graphics were this good.” 

“Right?”

“Well, the couch is ready when you are. Do. Not. Stay up all night playing, though. Promise?”

Chastised, he ducked his head low and muttered, “promise.” 

She knew there was a good chance he would do it anyway, but who was she to judge? Yoosung’s voice stopped her as she headed into her new bedroom. “Hey, May. I’m glad you decided to stay with the RFA after… you know. I know we’re kind of a disaster.” 

There had been a few moments where she had considered dropping all contact with them, but disaster or not, she had let herself be adopted into a very odd family. “Thanks, Yoosung. I’m glad too. G’nite.” As tired as she was, she doubted a restful night of sleep awaited her either. 

***

What was Yoosung doing so far away from the city? Luciel squinted at the yellow puppy icon on the map. Wherever he was, he had been there for hours. A quick check showed activity on his LOLOL account. Was it a new internet cafe? 

He ran a search to see if there were any gaming centers in that area, but nothing came up. The district seemed to mostly house apartment complexes. A wave of goosebumps coursed down his arms. Had he found her that easily? With trembling hands, he switched the map to a satellite view and zoomed in on the building Yoosung’s location was pinging from. It was a long row of two-story buildings. The exterior stairway led up to a landing with a door on each side. He couldn’t see the building or apartment numbers as the image was pixelated when he got that close, but he made a note of the location on his map. 

Luciel leaned back in his chair, drawing in a long, stuttering breath. 

It had to be hers. He exhaled sharply, something close to a laugh, as his body jerked in a brief shiver, his fingers clutching at the air. He had expected his search to take days, and there, on his screen, was MC’s apartment. He should be fucking ecstatic. But why was Yoosung there?! God, it was past eleven at night. 

They were just friends who played that game together, right? Those few times he had stopped into an internet cafe during his travels, he sometimes popped into the game with an alt and even joined their parties for dungeon runs on occasion. That cute female elf would sometimes flirt with Yoosung to see what their reactions would be, and he never got any sense that they were more than friends. Heck, MC sometimes encouraged Yoosung to reciprocate. 

So… there was nothing to worry about. Of course, someone had to help her move. Though, unless Yoosung had miraculously gotten into shape, he wouldn’t have been able to do it all. Thinking about this was only wasting time. Luciel clicked through several searches and city databases to get more information on the address… focus. Okay, blueprints, electrical grid… Yoosung was still logged into LOLOL. From her apartment. What if he knew that Luciel would track him and was leaving the game logged in to hide that he was really in bed with… No! Electrical grid, Yoosung’s fingers trailing over her naked body, mapping out its curves and… 

Luciel’s chair crashed to the floor as he bolted out of it, pacing and grinding his fingers across his scalp, tugging at his hair. The door to the storage room caught his eye, and he remembered that he had installed something there for moments like this. 

With a yell, he slammed his fist into Yoosung’s face, breaking his nose. Another punch and blood was trickling from his nostrils. Again, and his lip split open, spattering red across his cheek. Luciel snarled and reeled back for a massive right hook, this one marring Zen’s pretty fucking face. Two more strikes would leave him with a black eye and… As he continued to hammer on the punching bag, left, right, left, right, the black liquid hatred inside of him drained away, though he kept going until exhaustion overtook him. 

He stepped out of the dark room, ignoring the stiffness the arm that hadn’t fully healed and the raw ache of his knuckles. His mind needed to be clear to do things right this time. Luciel sat heavily on the bed and shook a small pill out of a bottle, downing it with lukewarm water. Sleep would help, so long as he didn’t dream.


	3. Equivocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven decides to confirm some of his suspicions.  
> Song for Seven: "Wake Up" by Coheed and Cambria: https://youtu.be/fIdH0Nir7Uc
> 
> Song for MC: "Your Heart is as Black as Night" by Beth Hart & Joe Bonamassa https://youtu.be/--HRQ3ckYt8

Impatience was not a vice that Luciel often gave into. So much of working with computers, of observing a target, was waiting. 

But he had to be sure. 

The car he had driven wasn’t one of his babies. They were… probably long gone. This bucket of bolts was so old that he was almost embarrassed to be its driver, and he did not like that sound it had made through most of the trip. But, it had gotten him here. If it didn’t get him back, he would figure something out. He always did. 

Luciel stopped in a sparsely populated parking lot a few blocks away from his goal and pulled his laptop to his chest. He could only open it so far in the small space between him and the steering wheel, but it was enough. Squinting against the harsh sunlight and the dust motes, he logged into his tracking program. The puppy icon was almost back home, traveling on a standard bus line. That meant he had left about fifty-three minutes ago, or just before seven thirty in the morning. Tapping his chin, he pulled up the company’s website. It was the first bus of the day that followed that specific route. Luciel let out a sigh, somewhat relieved to know that Yoosung had left as soon as possible. 

As he zoomed in on the nearby streets again, he longed to see that little heart-eyed kitty icon on his map. Despite the tantalizing clue that had dropped into his lap regarding her location, the lack of certainty left shadows in his peripheral vision. Once they were back together, he would gift her with his newest invention, and the uncertainty would fade away forever. Luciel snapped the laptop shut and tucked it away under the mud-scuffed console before twisting himself around to scrabble at the backseat. 

Even knowing what he was reaching for, he inhaled sharply when his fingers brushed against the fine, synthetic fibers. He had to pause for a moment, overwhelmed with memories. 

Her long hair cascading around her face as she rode him. Brushing the tangles out of those fine strands after he’d had her writhing on the bed for hours. The simple way it flowed over her shoulders as she turned when he called out her name. 

He steeled himself and grasped the wig, settling it into place. With the map firmly in his mind, he popped open the glove compartment and wedged his glasses in amongst the manuals and receipts within. He pulled out a second pair with thin metal frames and donned them, brushing medium length strands of black hair out of the way. 

Hand on the gear shift, he hesitated, his breathing quickening. Fear. He was afraid for the first time in so long. Afraid that he would see her and lose his self-control, running to her before their home was ready and he was back to the man her heart would recognize. Fucking it up as he had so recently. Afraid that he wouldn’t see any sign of her before someone called security on him. And yet, if he was right, she was only two blocks, a set of stairs, a door - likely with multiple locks and a pitiful security system - away from her. 

Keeping that thought in his heart, he nearly peeled out of the parking lot and headed to the apartment complex. He rolled up to the gate and held out his phone to the security panel for a moment. The two devices had a brief silent conversation before a loud beep heralded the gates opening for him. There was a spot open on the far side of the lot that gave him a perfect view of her front window once he backed into the parking space. 

Luciel’s breathing sounded enormously loud to his ears in space left behind once the engine ceased its unpleasant growling, clicking fitfully as it began to cool. There was an electric sense to the air, tingling with potential, like brushing your fingers over an old monitor screen. He had to calm down or he might miss some sign of her. Eyes trained on the sheer curtains dancing across her windows, he found himself slipping into an aimless prayer - if not to God, maybe to Fate - for some sign of MC’s presence.

There he waited as the shadow of the building crept across the parking lot. With every millimeter of pavement it consumed, he knew his time was running out. Movement from the apartment next to hers caught his eye. An older man in his early 50’s and dressed up for a morning jog or walk, stepped outside, turning to wave to someone before he marched down the stairs. A thought came to Luciel as he watched the domestic scene, and he started up a timer on his phone. Still nothing from the other apartment, from 232F. The numbers added up to seven, he realized, idly, and smiled. He wondered if she had noticed that too. 

Her neighbor returned nearly an hour later, the sweat beading on his brow gleaming in the sun. His ascent was less enthusiastic than his descent had been. Luciel stopped the timer and made a few notes for a plan that was brewing in his mind, never glancing away from her window for more than a second. 

Finally, there was movement. The sheer curtains parted, if only by a few hesitant inches. The occupant of 232F did not show her face, but he caught sight of her shape, her curves - the places where his cold fingers longed to call home again. The form that fit so perfectly in his arms, and against his chest. The only difference he could notice through that gauzy barrier was that her hair no longer flowed past her shoulders. He was in awe as he watched her shadow flow through well-practiced movements. Step, chop, step, chop. Who had been teaching her Karate kata? How much of her life had he missed over these months? As much as he craved the feeling of her, he longed to know her again. He would have to remember that she was no longer the girl flailing at him in an alleyway with a kitchen knife if she was learning self-defense. 

Luciel nearly screamed when his reverie was interrupted by the sound of angry knocking on his driver’s side window. One hand covering his chest to keep his heart from bursting free and taking off somewhere, he waved a vague apology to the guy glaring at him before fumbling for his key and starting up the car. The man took a step back, shrugging as Luciel drove away as casually as he could manage. 

Once he got on the expressway again, the brief burst of terror melted into triumphant laughter. A report would be filed for a black-haired, brown-eyed person of ambiguous gender, driving a car with no registration. Lurking in a parking lot for a while wasn’t a serious enough offense for anyone to follow up on it anyway. But most importantly, he had found MC. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it with a flourish, filling the car with pounding synthwave music. Yeah. It had been a good day. 

***

May stared at a ceiling she didn’t yet entirely recognize, from a bed whose sheets were not yet softened from use, and sighed. The details of her dream were lost, burned away by the gentle sunlight that poured through her window, but she knew she had dreamt of him. What frustrated her the most was that she hadn’t woken up filled with fear. She never did when her dreams were haunted by Seven. 

There were other dreams - nightmares that plagued her all too often - in which her attacker was faceless or obscured in darkness. A monster of shadow and steel that hounded her as her bare feet slapped against the pavement, or who pinned her to her bed, snarling at her, hot breath choking and putrid. 

She had never told her therapist about this dichotomy of dreams because she knew exactly what it meant. If only it were the monster who showed up more frequently, even when it dragged her into the throes of a panic attack. 

May threw the covers off of her and turned over, wondering how long she had managed to sleep this time. The blocky green numbers rolled over from 7:06 am to the next expected set of numbers, and she pursed her lips and glared at it accusingly. She rubbed at her shoulder, sore from the previous day’s workout. It felt good to get back into practice though. The rumbling of her stomach swapped her plans around from “shower then breakfast” to the reverse, and she politely asked it to be quiet while she began getting ready for her day. 

***  
“Yes, can I help you?”

“Ah yes…” The maintenance man paused and glanced at his clipboard. “Mrs. Park?” When the occupant of 233F nodded, he continued. “I’m here to check your cable line. Your husband had reported some issues with it, and I figured I would take a quick look at it while I’ve got a free moment.” 

Mrs. Park frowned up at the blond-haired man who was bothering her. She moved to close the door by a few inches, peering out at him. “If my husband asked you to come, you’d better come back later after his run.” 

The man pinched his lips together in a frown. “I’m actually on a tight schedule today, as this is almost a complex-wide issue. I promise it won’t take long, ma’am. I won’t be a bother, I swear.” 

She glared at him, taking in every detail, from his scuffed sneakers and worn toolbelt to his keen blue eyes, before she replied, “Fine. But don’t touch anything other than the cable line, computer, and television. I’ll be watching.” 

“Yes, ma’am! Thank you, ma’am! I’ll be done in a jiffy!”

***

Stern and muffled voices caught May’s attention as she stepped out of her bedroom, freshly showered and dressed. She followed the sound, pressing herself against the wall to the side of her window as she listened in, careful not to disturb the curtains.

“Now, calm down, Mrs. Park. Did this so-called intruder take anything from your home?” 

The word “intruder” made her suck in a breath. “That’s not the point! He lied and said my husband had asked him to come by. He did no such thing! He tricked an elder into letting him into her home. This is an outrage!” 

May sank further against the wall, breathing hard as she continued to listen. “Okay, okay. Can you provide us with a description?” She clung to every detail that Mrs. Park relayed, but nothing about the American-sounding man seemed familiar. Even still, her knees gave out, and she slumped to the floor, holding tight to her phone. After counting out three deep breaths, she logged into the RFA chat room, her hands still trembling. Jumin had quoted her the crime statistics for this neighborhood, and she found herself reciting them in her head. They nestled up against the half-remembered reasons Saeran had given her that his brother would never locate her new hiding place.

Those idiot dreams were what they were - her subconscious longing for affection and cherry picking moments from the hell that man had put her through. The half-second she had spent thinking that he might have broken into her neighbor’s place for some reason sent those memories scurrying back to where they belonged. He was dangerous. Not for the reasons he had initially tried to scare her away over, though the skills he used as part of his old job made everything that much worse. 

Regardless, she had to tell someone about the incident. 

[MC has entered the chatroom]

Zen: Hey, lovely lady! How is the new place so far?

MC: something wrd happened just now  
MC: it’s probably nohing but. 

Zen: What happened? Are you okay?  
Zen: I’m sure Rich Boy can get a car there right away if you need.  
Zen: At least he’s useful for something.  
Zen: God! Tell me you’re okay!

MC: I’m safe. Sorry to worry you. 

[Yoosung has entered the chatroom]

Yoosung: May! You’re here! How’s the computer?  
Yoosung: Wait! I just scrooled up. What happened?!

MC: I’m okay, typo buddy. My neighbor is talking to the police, though.  
MC: A blond-haired, blue-eyed guy sweet talked his way into her apartment.  
MC: He told her he was there to fix her cable connection, but her husband never asked him to do so. 

Zen: Scary! That doesn’t… sound like anyone we know though. 

Yoosung: I guess it does and it doesn’t. 

Zen: There’s no way he knows where you are though!  
Zen: But keep your door locked and your phone handy anyway.  
Zen: Even if it’s not that guy, you should watch out for any man willing to lie like that.

MC: Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone like that in without calling the office first.  
MC: I don’t get it though. She said he didn’t steal anything. 

Yoosung: Maybe he was stealing her cable! 

Zen: That’s probably it. My neighbor did that to me once!!

Yoosung: Zen, that was because you didn’t put a password on your network lol

MC: lol. Thanks for listening to me, guys. I feel a little better.  
MC: Logging out for now!

Zen: Be safe, May. 

MC: Will do

[MC has left the chatroom]

May’s phone landed in the middle of the room with a soft ‘thunk.’ She was just… done with it for now. Done with the phone, the RFA, police on her porch. A glance around the side of the curtains showed that Mrs. Park had gone back inside and the police had left as well. 

She pushed herself off the floor, noting the mild ache in her legs from her earlier practice. It always felt like a game of pretend, going through the movements Mae had taught her. They were supposed to build confidence and convince her that she had a chance of fighting back, of getting away if she ever saw him again. Well, it wasn’t working. For every plan she could come up with to protect herself, there were at least two scenes from either reality or TV that told her how he would brush aside her attempts like so much dust. 

Then there were the dreams. She shook her head as she plodded towards the kitchen. Her dreams forced her to face the fact that some parts of her mind and body weren’t on the same team. The only way to win against an enemy was to present a unified front. She had forgotten who told her that, but they were right. God, she wanted nothing more than to hate him whole-heartedly for everything he did, but love and hate twisted over and through each other, leaving her in knots. 

The various things in her kitchen and cabinets refused to tell her what she wanted for dinner, so she made do with a meal shake she kept around for nights like this. Sometimes it was such a pain having to take care of a body too when her mind was running in circles. Well, she could tune that out as well, she thought, as she booted up her game. 

***

Monitoring someone’s internet packets could tell you several things about their habits - when they were active, where they spent their time online. Luciel tapped his fingers on his desk, irritated over how little information he was getting. He really should have known better. She spent more time on her phone than the computer. Even when she was in LOLOL, she would step away for minutes or hours at a time. With that information, he could get a vague timeline of her day. It felt like she was going to bed later than she used to and he was sure she wasn’t leaving the apartment. Mostly sure. 

If only he hadn’t deleted all of the details he had been so proud of gathering before their fateful meeting. He still remembered her favorite tea, foods, colors… but he didn’t feel confident enough in his knowledge of her to make everything perfect just yet. 

He shoved his chair back away from the desk and spun around a few times, trying to plan his next move. How could he build their new world from these scraps? It wasn’t possible. He needed access to her phone or to make his way into her apartment, and he needed to be smart about it. No more barging in like a maniac. She needed to remember him from before… 

From halfway across the room he saw the stream of data on the shift. MC had pulled up an internet search and reviews for something. Luciel kicked turned his back to his desk and propelled himself back over to it, twisting back around to his monitor and pulled up one of the sites she had been viewing. 

Now this was interesting. The page displayed an array of photos, showing a modest ballroom at a hotel not far from Rika’s old apartment. She was also accessing information about catering for a small event. Judging by the price range she pulled up for reservations, it was for a party of less than ten. They had her planning a party again, though this felt like a meeting for just the RFA and a few others? Who else? 

Nothing irked him more than not having information superiority over his targets. The feeling left him scratching an imagined itch at the base of his skull. MC’s phone was the keystone for her life, and he needed access to it. With a solid goal in his mind, he settled his headphones over his ears. In that moment of silence before his playlist kicked in, he sensed her. She was out there waiting for him to return; he was sure of it. 

Galvanized by this knowledge, he set to work on a program that would first cautiously probe her phone’s security. He had already discovered that the RFA’s new security specialist wasn’t someone he could underestimate, so he had to be crafty about it. Luciel let himself flow with the familiar clacking of keys and the pounding bass that reverberated through him, humming along with the music as the program unfurled beneath his fingertips.


	4. Penitence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief flashback and an explanation. 
> 
> A chance meeting, and...

Five months ago

 

The first thing he was aware of was his heartbeat. With every convulsion of that muscle, the back of his head throbbed, bringing nausea and a dull ache. He tried to roll over to relieve the pressure on his skull and found his wrists were bound to whatever he was laying on. Preparing to fight against his captivity and test the strength of anything that dared try to hold him down, he grit his teeth, only to realize he was gagged as well. With a deep breath, he screamed into the fabric that filled his mouth and thrashed, causing the cot to rattle against the concrete walls of his apparent cell.  _ Where the fuck am I?! Who dares?!  _

 

He struggled in vain until the little energy he had awoken with was sapped and slumped back to the cot. Above him was a ceiling of white squares dotted with holes, and a light fixture that filled the room with a glaring brightness. A glance around his cell showed no windows and a metal door on the opposite side of the room. There were no markings anywhere to explain where he was. 

 

The man closed his eyes, turning his thoughts instead to the past. That other part of his mind had insisted he go out to the garden at night once his work was done. The milquetoast voice had begged to see the moonflowers in bloom and he saw no reason to fight the impulse. He spent so little time outdoors that he had to admit it was a nice break, even if he didn’t give a shit about flowers. A large white pentagonal blossom and the other’s joy at its sight, as well as being unreasonably tired, were the last things he remembered before waking up here. 

 

***

“Thanks for making this happen on such short notice, old friend.” 

 

Jumin combed his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath before replying. “Of course. The medical team and psychiatrist are headed to the site now, and I assure you they can be trusted to keep quiet about this. But you owe me an explanation later, V.”

 

The man on the other end of the call replied, still out of breath. “I swear to you I’ll tell you everything I can when I can. Just know you’re helping me pay back a very old debt that I owe.” 

 

Hearing his friend's ragged voice concerned him. “You sound exhausted. Focus on resting first. Have you eaten?” 

 

“Not since… not recently. I don’t remember. I’ll figure something out soon. Promise.”

 

“See that you do. Don’t worry about calling when my people get there. They will keep me informed. Do you want updates on the young man’s progress?” 

 

“I intend to be there with him through as much of this as possible.”

 

Jumin tilted his head at V’s words, prompting a meow of curiosity from Elizabeth the Third. Whomever he had just authorized all of this for was someone V knew, without a doubt. Now that young man was basically a prisoner in a secure basement ward of one of the hospitals his father had sway with. He trusted his friend so he knew he wouldn’t regret helping him, but the situation was beyond abnormal. “Do what you need to do after you’ve taken care of yourself.“

 

“Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

 

“Hopefully one day you’ll tell me. Good evening.” Though it wasn’t something he made a habit of, Jumin ended the call before the other could reply. He had set up all of the needed connections and assignments from the comfort of his bed, so he set his phone back on its wireless charging pad. A quiet “mrowl” from his feline companion drew his attention, and he smiled, giving her a gentle scratch under her chin. “Elizabeth. Thank you. You always know when I need a distraction from the rest of the world.” Once she was satisfied with the attention he gave her, she wandered off to her fur-lined bed, and her owner laid back down as well, eventually drifting into a light slumber. 

***

Several weeks later

 

Despite his earlier promise to be present for as much of the recovery process as possible, the doctors taking care of Saeran had denied V entrance to the room where he was held. Whatever vile combination of drugs Rika concocted had put him through terrible withdraws and the detoxification process had been touch and go. The first time they had undone his cuffs, he broke the jaw of one of the male nurses on shift, forcing them to keep him sedated more often than not. 

 

V shook his head, the teal strands of his hair brushing over his shoulders in a way he wasn’t used to. Everything that had gone on over the last month and change had weighed on him heavily, as had the knowledge that he had to finally do something for the other twin at last. He had hoped that by infiltrating the cult he could take it down in a peaceful manner, convincing his ex of… With a sigh, he admitted to himself that he still had no idea how to resolve that matter. In the end, Rika was still in charge of her cult, and he had drugged and kidnapped the boy he had long ago left to her whims. 

 

Finally, he had been given leave to speak to Saeran, even though the doctors had warned that he was still somewhat volatile. The drugs were out of his system but though he had become more lucid, the rage within him had not diminished at all. With only an inkling of what Rika had done to the boy, he steeled himself to speak with him for the first time in years. 

 

Opening the door as gently as possible, he stepped into what he could only describe as a prison cell. The occupant’s reaction to his sight was instant. His blue-green eyes widened and his fists clenched. Saeran's entire form vibrated as if on the verge of tearing one of the two of them apart. 

 

“You! Why should I listen to anything you say!? You betrayed the Savior and you work with that damned traitor!” 

 

Before he knew it, his hands were in front of him, ready to protect his face from the expected attack. He tried to turn the movement into a soothing motion, but he knew he had already betrayed himself. There was no hiding that he was afraid of the white-haired man. “Please… There have been several grave misunderstandings and I won’t deny my part in them. But listen…”

 

It was months before Saeran had been willing to hear him out, even a bit. The words that V carefully crafted and handed to the young man were twisted and thrown back at him. Eventually, the vile elixir was completely ousted from his system, but Rika’s lies remained, as did his deep hatred of his brother. V had prayed that his hate stemmed from love. Losing the only family he had as a child in that situation would take a toll on anyone. The more they spoke, though, or argued, V began to lose hope that he or the therapist working with Saeran could untangle the brambles of hate and find a blossom of love within. 

 

But beneath the thorny vines, there were thicker gnarls and tangles. He trusted the counselor to help Saeran work through those to be able to be part of society again. It seemed though, he would never reconcile with his brother without meeting him, which was now impossible. Not in any healthy or constructive way, in any case. Perhaps… 

 

The thought that crossed V’s mind as he pondered the matter, and his first thought was to repress it. To forget it. He had made enough selfish decisions on behalf of the Choi twins. Yet… there was a certain poetic simplicity to it. 

 

If anyone could protect them from any future attacks by Luciel, by Saeyoung, it would be his twin. If there wasn’t time to dissolve the hate, perhaps it could be refocused instead. 

 

***

Present

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” 

 

Leaning back in his plush chair, Jumin replied to his friend, “Wasn’t it your idea?”

 

V ran a hand through his teal hair, grown longer than he usually wore it. “Well… I’m allowed to have second thoughts, aren’t I? I wanted everyone to get together before we drifted apart entirely. You’ve felt it too, I’m sure. It would give May something else to focus on as well, right?” 

 

“Most assuredly. Your ward assures me that there is nothing to fear, and I agree that it would be a good trial run for planning another major party.” 

 

The men gazed at each other in silence until V’s eyes widened and he let out a laugh. “Good to know you see the logical merits of my ideas! I meant something more for their hearts than a trial run but I’ll take it. Even if we aren’t on the same page, it’s at least the same chapter and I’ll take it.” 

 

Jumin smiled at his friend. “For the hearts of the RFA...  You’re right. It will be good to see everyone again.” 

 

At his words, the two men silently recalled those they had lost, and what they wished to hold dear. For V, a lost love, even though they had never been perfect… and the man he saw as something akin to a son, who had descended into madness without him realizing. Could he have stopped it? Should he have known? Before his mind took him back to the choices he made that led to Saeyoung Choi’s life as an agent, he packed his things to head home. 

 

He had a party to plan. Even though it would be small, he would put all of his heart into it, for everyone. 

 

***

 

Luciel was barely able to hold back the urge to run up the stairs two at at time. It had been weeks since he’d found out about the RFA’s get-together, and he’d been meticulously planning for tonight since then. In moments, he had breached the lock, everything falling into place with a satisfying “click” as the door opened for him. Once inside, he locked the door and threw back the hood of his dull grey jacket. He inhaled deeply of the cool air that flooded out from her apartment, letting himself in as he dissected the bouquet in his mind. First, he noted cleaning products - that made sense for a new apartment. It had been cleaned before she arrived and she probably wanted to keep it tidy. Beneath that harsh layer...

 

He swayed, breathing hard, and fell back against the door. Though cool, the air was humid, and haunted him with a scent of jasmine and soap. Images of MC luxuriating in the shower tangled through his brain, momentarily chasing away any other thoughts. He had missed her by minutes. A primal part of him wanted to dash back out the door, chase down her car and… A few deep, controlled breaths, brought him back. There was work to do. 

 

MC’s apartment was decorated sparsely. The front portion of the room was barren, possibly left that way so she had room to work out. Beyond that was an entryway to the kitchen, and her computer desk. The desk was littered with empty soda and beer cans and her keyboard showed years of usage in the worn letters on the home row.  _ Interesting _ , he thought, brushing his fingers along the keys. The evidence was at odds with what he knew of her, other than her new LOLOL habit. He would have to ask her about that sometime. Luciel nodded to the computer to let it know he would be back later.

 

The kitchen was clean, with only one plate and some metal chopsticks in the sink. She must have eaten first then hurried into the shower to get to the RFA party in time. He tugged on the handle of the refrigerator, which resisted for a moment before opening. Two takeout boxes, soda and beer, soy sauce, and some wilting vegetables were all that took up the shelves. So she wasn’t eating well these days, and didn’t take time to cook for herself. Thankfully, he’d been learning how to cook in his meager kitchen, so she would be much better off once they were together again.

 

The cabinets yielded similar results. Bare necessities and little else, other than one small packet of cookies. He noted the brand as it must be one of her favorite treats to be the one anomaly in a sea of blandness. There was none of the tea that she so loved either, so he swore he would make sure their home never ran out of it to make up for it. 

 

As he ventured down the hallway, the scent of soap and flowers grew stronger and he let it pull him into the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror for a moment- it wasn’t fogged over any longer, just dotted with moisture. Luciel braced himself on the sink with both hands as in his mind they were getting out of a steamy shower together, their damp bodies pressed together as they laughed and headed to the bedroom.  _ Focus, dammit. You were going to start here anyway _ … Still wobbly, he stabilized himself and began removing what he needed from his toolbelt. 

 

***

 

The room around her is noisier than she expected for such a small party. Everyone’s drastically different tastes in music were reflected in the amusingly eclectic playlist of the night, and all were played loud enough that her friends had to shout to be heard. May sat at one of the tables, spinning a few half-melted cubes of ice within her glass and smiled as Zen grabbed Jaehee’s hand, dragging her into a spinning dance. Maybe she should spend some time on the dancefloor too. Getting up and moving always helped a little when she felt anxious. Having convinced herself that sitting here and moping was doing her no favors, she stood up suddenly before she could change her mind. 

 

Her chair hit something solid and she slammed a hand on the table to stabilize herself from the sudden impact and the few drinks she’d had. “Hey, watch it!” 

 

_ Oh shit. Of all the people to literally bump into _ … “Aaah, sorry!” she floundered. 

 

Saeran put his hand on her shoulder to keep her from toppling, and said, in a less irritated tone, “It’s fine. Are you okay?” 

 

So much for avoiding the man. She didn’t want to make eye contact with him, afraid she would see too much of his brother there, but her gaze was drawn to his against her will. There was some familiarity there - the weary eyes of someone who had a complicated relationship with sleep, and the same messy but endearing fringe. While it was still obvious that he was his own person, her breath caught when she met his blue-green eyes. When she opened her mouth to reply but failed to muster up any words, he backed up a step after making sure she was no longer in danger of falling. “May. Are you drunk?” He had one eyebrow raised and was frowning at her. 

 

“Not really. You just caught me off guard. I’ll be fine,” she replied.

 

He shrugged, then turned to leave. Having survived a simple interaction with him, a spark of curiosity lit up in her brain. Despite lingering misgivings, she called after him. “Saeran, wait…” 

 

***

Ah, sweet technology. A few years ago, he would have needed to invent something like this on his own, but now any fool could get their hands on minute cameras like these. Without knowing what you were looking for, you’d assume it was just a normal screw on a light fixture, or holding the mirror in place. Luciel checked his phone and confirmed that his first installation was a success, giving a decent view of his face as he looked towards the mirror. After blowing a kiss towards it, he left the bathroom to head further down the hall. 

 

As the floorplan for the apartment complex showed, there was a closet at the end of the hall, and her bedroom to the right. He flicked on the lightswitch with no concerns about leaving fingerprints all over her place. His weren’t in any database. 

 

In contrast to the rest of the house, her bedroom was almost lushly decorated. There was a dresser, the drawers closed haphazardly and overflowing with clothing. Atop it sat a pair of paperback romance novels. He flipped through a few pages and laughed at how mundane it was.  _ Oh, MC. I’ll treat you so much better than these imaginary dummies _ . Though, he couldn’t help but smile fondly at how cute she was for reading something like this. Did she think of him when reading it, he wondered? Careful to make sure nothing looked disturbed, he placed the book back on the shelf. 

 

The nightstand to the left of her bed showed him a half-full glass of water, an empty beer can on its side - he was really starting to worry about this habit of hers - and a dirty plate. He picked up the plate to sniff it and caught a whiff of stale chocolate. It was good to know she still enjoyed cakes and treats despite the state she seemed to be in. He would gladly buy her anything she wanted once she was safe at home again.

 

Then there was the bed. The comforter was a dusty purple and not as soft as he had hoped, as he brushed his fingers across it. Her sheets were grey and distressingly low thread count. He made note of the colors, though he wasn’t sure if they were something she preferred since everything felt like it came from the bargain bin somewhere. Luciel sighed and let himself have one more luxury, leaning down close to her pillows to see if he could catch her scent, inhaling deeply of her musk and light floral highlights. Memories of their time in Rika’s apartment came to mind, rather than better moments. It was hard for him to believe he ever tried to push her away. Never again.  _ Soon, MC. So soon.  _

 

***

 

Back at home, Luciel leaned back in his computer chair as he flicked through the cameras to make sure they were still online. A view of the empty front room. There was a profile shot of her old office chair. The bathroom was next, showing the wall across from the mirror. Lastly, two different views of her bedroom. “I can’t wait to see you, baby,” he husked as he waited for her to get home. 

 

Minutes later, he saw her front door open, and MC flowed into the room in a long, emerald green desk . She hopped a few times after closing the door, and kicked off her shoes. He laughed as she did a few dance steps with an imaginary partner before sitting down hard in her office chair. Even while rubbing her obviously sore feet, she looked happy. Did that mean… she had been dancing with someone at the party? He felt sure that if the cameras conveyed audio as well, he would hear her humming whatever song they last had danced to. God, he never thought of dancing with her. The only time he’d danced with anyone was to get close to them for information so he never imagined doing it for fun. 

 

Dammit, who had made her so happy? Luciel took a few long breaths, trying to calm himself.  _ It wouldn’t matter who it was soon. Who was it? Fuck. No, it didn’t matter. _ She would never betray him. 

 

He realized he must have closed his eyes, as she was suddenly no longer in view. He switched views until he found her in the bedroom, contorting herself to unzip her dress. Luciel’s short fingernails dug into the arms on his chair as he watched her undress, his excitement tinged with anger as she moved around her room with small dancing steps. She had come home alone, at least.  _ But who dared to put that smile on his precious MC’s face _ ? 

 

Gripping the chair like a lifeline was all he could do to keep from doing something about the growing problem in his jeans. He wanted so badly to wait until they were together again, but it wasn’t easy… even with her unfamiliar short hair, she was intoxicating. But, he would wait. 

 

Satisfied that his mission had been successful, at least, he made his way through his dark and lonely home to take a cold shower before bed. 


End file.
